


Noiretale

by TheSecondQuincy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondQuincy/pseuds/TheSecondQuincy
Summary: While attempting to catch the ever elusive SOUL Reaper after his latest murder of two Void members, the last thing Sans and Papyrus expected to find at the scene of the crime was a human child.





	1. It's Raining Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Read this fic @ http://noiretale.tumblr.com/ !

**CHAPTER 1:**

**[ It’s Raining Somewhere ]**

“The fact is that we have no way of knowing if the person who we  _ think _ we are is at the core of our being. Are you a decent [girl] with the potential to someday become an evil monster, or are you an evil monster that thinks it's a decent [girl]?"

"Wouldn't I  _ know _ which one I was?"

"Good God, no. The lies we tell other people are nothing to the lies we tell ourselves.” 

―  **Derek Landy** ,  **Death Bringer**

* * *

Sans was never called in at convenient moments. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had time to just, _ you know _ , wake up at a comfortable two in the afternoon and drink his coffee in peace.  _ Always _ at six in morning, when he’d only gotten home two hours prior and had just about that much sleep in his skeletal frame.

It was a constant that normally the skeleton could appreciate -- after all, routine was just about his favorite thing in the world, besides greasy food, joke books, cheesy sitcoms and the convenience of ketchup packets. His phone ringing before dawn broke every morning like clockwork, though? No, to that, he’d just roll back into his greased sheets, back turned to the phone rested on the ground with its charger connected.

_ Ring. Ring. Ring. _ And the text notification came. Like clockwork, just as he preferred it. Sans rolled back over, picking it up and bringing it up to his face, squinting at the flip phone’s low resolution text.

_ ‘ Body found. 2831 CHARLES ST.  Expecting you in an hour.‘  _

A small sigh, and the device was dropped again as he briefly considered skipping out on the scene entirely. Papyrus was likely already out and surveying in his stead, and he was better in the aftermath of observation than the actual act of it. Not for lack of skill, but more for lack of motivation; someone’d have to wave a half dozen doughnuts in his face before it actually became a priority to do things efficiently at the crack of dawn. But he already knew he couldn’t unless he wanted the wrath of a judgemental police department and partner weighing on him for the next week, and thus, hoisted himself straight out of bed and shuffled out the door of his room, avoiding the cluttered mess of paperwork and tools that made his carpeting near invisible.

When the short monster finally made his way into the cramped apartment kitchen they shared, he found the coffee pot already full and warm, along with an extremely detailed written note from his partner on the details of the scene. He didn’t bother to check just yet, pouring out the cup as he stared out the window over their sink full of dirty dishes from the night prior, as the sounds of calm but steady plonks against glass pane acted as a secondary alarm clock.

Ah. Raining. Sans knew the note explained what he already knew.

Turning away from the window and leaning against the set of stacked, milk-stained bowls, he gazed out into their straight-shot of an entryway, noting for confirmation’s sake that the larger set of coat, rain boots and umbrella were visibly missing from the usual cluttered arrangement. Papyrus tried his best to keep the majority of their belongings organized and separate, but Sans was just as unconsciously good at tossing things wherever he pleased that it made his systems entirely moot. The rest of the small apartment wasn’t much better in appearance, but at the very least, it was livable, which was all they really needed it to be; you only had to be concerned about the cracking drywall and rowdy neighbors to your side if you actually were home through the majority of the day, which neither were.

He took his time with his drink, sipping away at it while sleepily shuffling back into his room for a change of clothing. Sans found it all laid out and folded on his desk that was buried in the furthest corner of his tiny room, as per usual; dress pants, leather shoes, clean shirt and tie, with another note placed on top. 

**[ CLEAN YOUR ROOM WHEN WE GET HOME. WE OWN A WASHER AND DRYER. I WILL INSTRUCT ON HOW TO OPERATE THEM IF NECESSARY. AGAIN. ]**

The “again” was underlined very strategically and specifically, in that it was overly done in about three different pen colors with intense exclamation points off to the side. He could only chuckle and brush it aside as he left the now empty mug off to the side of the desk and began to grab at the freshly ironed clothes before snagging both the note and his phone in one hand, shoving them into his pocket as he exited again. The tie was merely tossed around the neck of the dress shirt’s collar as he charged down the stairs, skipping every other step before sliding straight into home base -- the front door, with feet just stopping short of the dirtied welcome mat placed right in front of it. 

Blue trencoat snagged from its lower-placed hook and yanked on, with matching fedora plucked from a similar place, and he was off, forgetting to even both locking the door on his way out for his nice, damp stroll.   
  


It hadn’t taken the detective more than ten minutes to reach the address he’d been given through the text, knowing the area fairly well without need for navigational assistance. On the monster side of town, while everything was quite plainly in economic disrepair, it made for easy landmarks on just about every street corner; most monsters could tell you to get to places just by listing out the various abandoned businesses and sketchy alleys you’d pass by on the way. It was why most humans only visited if they had monster friends, or even more rare, monster relatives of some sort, and the ones that did live within that side of town were few and far between -- no sense in staying somewhere so sketchy looking, when the rest of the humans you knew would likely avoid you just because of the neighbors you lived by.

When the yellow tape was in sight, there wasn’t even a need for him to search his coat pockets for his badge, with an officer already waiting to escort him past the very small crowd of early morning onlookers that were managed by another two on the scene, taking notes in their tiny notebooks with stern expressions. He waved as he went passed, and they did so only briefly in return as a sign of acknowledgement. 

“FINALLY! I WAS BEGINNING TO WONDER IF YOU’D SHOW UP AT ALL!” 

Waiting beside the entrance of the Seven-Eleven esque shop was a rather tall, impatient-looking skeleton, tapping his foot against the wet concrete as the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the nearby alleyway, causing those present to only mildly flinch from the suddenness of it. Unsurprisingly, he was dressed similarly to the only other skeleton on the crime scene, with his clean slacks and shirt with prominent red tie. Overtop of it all, though, he was sporting a rather slick leather jacket, with umbrella folded away and slung of his shoulder.

“ sorry, bro. i had to interrogate the bed again this morning. “ A casual shrug as he stood beside him, nodding to the escort before watching him trail back to a nearby evidence collector. “I really think i’m close to cracking that whole serial sleeper case wide open. “   
  
“SANS, THAT IS  _ RIDICULOUS _ . “ Papyrus huffed. “ IF THE BED WERE THE CULPRIT, YOU WOULD KNOW! IT’S PRACTICALLY YOUR BEST FRIEND. ”   


“ eh, you’ve got a point. wouldn’t want to be searchin’ on dead leads. i’ll try the coffee pot tomorrow. “

“OH. HOW WAS IT? THE COFFEE? “ Completely changing gears as the two walked into the stores entrance, careful not to push too harshly in the places the glass in them had shattered or chipped away like the rest of the vandalized exterior. “I TRIED A NEW SET OF THE OL’ BEANS, SO I HOPE YOU WERE PROPERLY BEAN BOOZLED AT MY BARISTA SKILLS. SKILLS WITH A ‘Z’. ”

Sans snorted, stepping around the few broken pieces of glass on the floor and wiping off excess water from his shoulders. “ not too shabby. i’d give it a solid eight outta ten, but i forgot to put the sugar in, so-- oh, geez. “

The store was in no fit shape on its own; shelves were dismantled and laying in piles of useless metal bars and screws, and most of the vomit orange tiling was cracked or missing in some places. The displays, which were only hanging together from the vast amounts of duck-tape they’d been put together with years ago, had all been knocked over, their stale Twinkies and bags of generic chips scattered around the majority of the store. Right in the center of it all, though, were the stars of the scene, and only just recognizable as two expired human beings, drenched in pools of blood and mangled beyond proper recognition.

“ got ‘em identified yet? “ Sans crouched down, pulling out a pair of plastic gloves from one of his pockets and slipping them over his phalanges. 

Papyrus shook his head. “ NOT YET, I’M AFRAID. THEIR SOULS ARE MISSING, SO-”

“ -identification gonna be messy. “ The skeleton sighed, giving the cheek of the closest victim a poke. “ not sure why they’ve gotta make it so difficult. you’d think they’d get bored with it by now. “

“I AGREE THAT IT WOULD MAKE IT MARGINALLY EASIER, SANS, IF SERIAL KILLERS GOT BORED, BUT THAT WOULD DEFY THE PURPOSE OF BEING A DETECTIVE IN THE FIRST PLACE!” Cheerfully optimistic, Papyrus began his searches elsewhere within the disastrous displays, admiring the bits of unique graffiti as he found them. 

Careful hands began to lift the arm of the nearest corpse, the short detective’s hand pilfering through their pants pockets for any sort of additional evidence. “ it’d be pretty early to call it, but given that i got soaked walking here-- “

“WHICH YOU COULD HAVE AVOIDED, IF YOU’D WOKE UP ON TIME AND COME WITH ME!” Papyrus pointed out, picking up an old bag of trail mix with the skeletal equivalent of ‘nose scrumpled’.

“ uh-huh. but you get the picture then. “ Sans glanced over briefly.

He nodded, back still faced away from his brother. “INDEED. GIVEN THE WEATHER, AND THAT THEIR SOULS ARE LONG GONE, THE PATTERN IS REASONABLY SIMILAR ENOUGH TO MAKE AN ASSUMPTION IN ADVANCE. THOUGH I STILL HAVE YET TO SPOT THE FLO--”

“like that one?”

Hands removed from the deceased to point out for his brother across the way, at a rather fresh-looking buttercup laid out on top of ia pile of fallen, expired merchandise, sticking out like a sore thumb as being one of the only fresh looking things that didn’t smell of hard iron in the entire abandoned store floor. It was Sans who rose to get it, shuffling past the bodies and littered evidence to pluck it from its perch and twirl it around in his hands with scrutiny.

“...DO YOU STILL THINK IT’S-?”

Sans sighed. “ i dunno. its their style, for sure, but… i recognize this pair. they were there. and i’d bet anything the last few were too, so killing off your own doesn’t make much sense. not that i’d put it past them or anything. “

The other monster seemed to hesitate only for a moment before nodding, placing the old junk food back where he’d found it and walking past another display to kneel down beside the bodies on the opposite side of where Sans had been. He gave a small poke to the backside of the one wearing an actual coat, frowning. “THEY COULD ALL BE DEFECTORS?”

“nah. the group’s been cold for years, and even if they were jumping back into activity, you don’t really join that sort of group without your ideals figured out straight beforehand. “ Sans turned to Papyrus and motioned to him. “ can you toss me an evidence bag? “

“THEN WHAT KIND OF PERSON DOES THIS SORT OF THING, IF NOT THEM?” The bag was retrieved from his pockets and tossed across for a solid catch. 

“  the power hungry type, usually. they wouldn’t be so open with it if they didn’t want everyone to know. seems more like a show off move every time.” 

Sans dropped the flower into the bag, sealing it up and gently putting it inside his trench coat, taking another swinging gaze around the place before shrugging. “we should probably let the other guys in to get the bodies into the morgue. alphys’ll probably already be waiting.

“THAT WOULD BE BECAUSE ALPHYS SETS AN ALARM CLOCK!”

“alright, alright, i got it, pap. set the alarms.” 

A small grumble. “IM BEING SERIOUS.”

“i know, and i’m gonna set them this time.“ Gloves were removed, tossed into a nearby open garbage can by the doors as the two began to make their exit from the building. “I’ll even start up one of those, uh, spa routine things the cops in the break room’ve been trying out if you wa--”

From behind them just then, though, a set of metal displays squeaked.

The brothers paused with hands above the door handles, gazing at one another before turning their heads in sync towards the source of the noise. Within three seconds of mutual silence, Papyrus was the one to break it, speaking in as loud a whisper as physically possible as his eyes darted between the dismantled mess and his partner. “A RODENT?”

“...maybe.” Sans held out a hand, and found a tiny flashlight in it near instantly. He flicked the on switch for it, edging forward and aiming it towards the nearest set of broken shelves. Papyrus hung behind, hand raised with the distinct vibration of magic hanging in the air with a motion for the police officers watching from their loitering positions outside to stay where they were for the moment.

Finding nothing behind the first set, Sans continued forward, stepping over the bodies to get to the most disgraceful of the trash piles in the place, aiming the light towards the back of it. “...come on out with your hands up, pal, and make it slow--”

Like a bolt of lightning, the pile seemed to almost explode as bits and pieces were thrown from the sudden momentum of what’d been hiding beneath it, clattering and smashing into anything solid as a tiny figure tried to dart past them for the door, nearly taking the detective out in the process. Dazed and spun onto the floor, however, it didn’t take him very long to realize that Papyrus has done the deed for him, spotting the SOUL of whatever he’d caught on the ground with the figure themselves, pinned by the weight of gravity manipulation.

Getting back to his feet and dusting off himself, though, the tiny dots in his sockets froze as the remainder of the figure was spotted, and Papyrus seemed just as surprised, mouth hung open in a perpetual state of being unsure what to even do with it beyond opening in shutting it over and over, gaze darting between human and skeleton.

“SANS, I… THINK I CAUGHT THEM?” Questioning it himself, even, waiting for proper instruction from just about anyone else. Sans, though, was far too busy simply staring down at his catch, flashlight dropped and allowed to roll away into a set of bolts and metal pipes.

Papyrus had caught a human. A very tiny, quivering human, covered head to toe in red _. _

 


	2. Waiting.

**CHAPTER 2:**

**[ Waiting. ]**  


It’d been quite awhile since Frisk had been left to their own devices, in that tiny office of the rather vast and intimidating police station.

Legs swung, tapping against the base of the mahogany desk in a care rhythm of one, two, one two as they kept the majority of their focus straight at set of matching but empty office chairs across from them.  They’d had plenty of time to examine the majority of the room already, just from where they were seating, but had found nothing of terrible interest. Various photographs and certificates of achievement made out to the both of them plastered the walls in an almost cramped style, with only the rarest spot of cream wall color visible. There was a shelf behind the office chairs, too, filled to the brim with books and case files to match the large but neatly made stack of them on the left side of the desk.

A few pens and pencils, a calendar taped to the door, a digital clock set in the rightmost corner of the workstation… the child guessed those were normal things to find in an office, but they’d never been in one prior to then. All in all, nothing that a young child could find much interest in or could occupy themself with; they’d already wasted the dried doughnut a random officer had given to them an hour ago, and the napkin had been ripped to shreds in their lap when they hadn’t been able to find the trash can.

One, two, one, two. Waiting… waiting…

Knock knock. “ sorry ‘bout the wait. “

Oh.

Their head turned just enough to catch a glimpse of a small skeleton with knuckles rested onto the doorframe, and immediately turned away, hands folded into their lap and head hung. They’d been hoping it wasn’t his office they’d been sent to, even if all the pictures had shown him or the taller skeleton in some form. He made them nervous, somehow, even if he’d only known him for a short time. It was possibly the look of exposed bone, though they couldn’t imagine that was a unique complaint. Plenty of humans had to be afraid of skeletons, right?

There was a small sigh as the detective walked past them and they only caught his feet before they vanished behind the desk, and turned away further when he hopped into the chair that was naturally bent the farthest back. Rather than recline to further the chair’s misery, however, he only scooted forward, hands resting on top of a file he’d brought with him into the room and watching them with that unwavering gaze.

...Did he always smile like that?

“they cleaned you up then, huh? that’s gotta feel better than before.”

He wasn’t wrong. The shower had been nice, even if it’d started off with all that poking and prodding in the lobby, with the tweezers and cotton swabs. They weren’t really sure why it’d all been necessary, but they hadn’t let them leave until it was over, so they’d just gone with it with full compliancy. Still, even with the extra wash, they ran a few fingers through their knotted, chunky hair, making a small face at how stiff the shampoo had made it feel.

The still couldn’t see his face, though, beyond just the bottom half of it through their bangs. “...anyway. my name’s sans. sans the detective. but you can just call me sans. “

A small nod from them, still not looking.

“do you have a name i can call you?”

They peeked up at that, finding that the creepy smile had at least softened at the edges, with the rest of his expression appearing to be rather pleasant and kind. At the very least, he didn’t look like he was irritated like a lot of the other police officers had been with them, and was staying patient enough to wait for their response.

Rather than speak, they waited a moment before slowly gazing around the room, spotting a nearby pen and picking it up and looking to the detective expectantly.

“you wanna write it?”

A stern nod.

If skeletons could raise eyebrows, Frisk imagined he would have, but instead he only shrugged and dug around in a drawer they couldn’t see, pulling out a half used notepad and sliding it across the desk’s surface. They leaned forward, then, tucking their legs beneath them to get the extra boost of height as they carefully and neatly wrote it out for him. The pad was slid back soon after, but they kept the pen, spinning it like a top with their fingers while they waited.

“ frisk. did i say it right?”

Another nod, and the pen fell onto its side.

“okay then.” With a pause for thought, the paper was returned back to them, and it was then that Sans leaned back into the chair, much more relaxed and sincere looking. In their eyes, at least.  “how old are you, frisk? i’m guessing… fifty. “

A hand went to their mouth as they let out a very brief giggle, and they quickly shook their head, holding out all their fingers save for one of their thumbs towards him with a small head tilt for further indication.

“oh, i gotcha. nine.” Sans chuckled too. “i got pretty close, though. that means you’re in fourth grade, right?”

Hands were lowered and they shook their head.

“third?”

Nod.

“well, that’s pretty fun. can you tell me about where your school is? is it near your house? ”

There was the smallest moment of hesitation on their part before they shook their head firmly. They had a hand on the paper pad, then, and began to push it back, when it was stopped by one of Sans’, keeping it firmly in the middle but still causing them to flinch just a bit from the surprise of it. “it’s okay, kid. you don’t have to tell me about that yet if you don’t want to. but i still want to talk about today, if we can. can we talk about today?”

...Frisk really didn’t want to, nearly as much as they didn’t want to talk about their neighborhood. The thought crossed their mind to maybe get up and walk out, to show fully just how much against talking about anything they were with anyone, including Sans… but the more they waited to respond, both of their hands still on the notepad and staring back at one another with equal amounts of stern and nervous facial features, they realized rather quickly that it was probably better to get it over with faster rather than make him wait. They’d get to leave quicker then, probably.

So they bit their lip, but nodded once more, taking the paper with them and sinking into their chair with the retrieved pen in their lap. Sans seemed to take that as his cue to do the same, albeit with just a bit more posture so that he could flip open the file he’d brought in and pull out two old-ish picture from within, and set them in front of them.

He pointed to each one at a time. “ do you recognize these two? “

There was a small period where they tapped the pen against the paper before jotting out their answer and turning it towards him. ‘ they died. ‘

“yeah. they did. did you see them before they got hurt?”

Frisk nodded, lowering their gaze down more to the paper and scribbling in the corner of it as Sans watched them. They heard a sharp intake of breath, but never heard it released as he took the pictures back, pulling out another set of papers from within it. “was there someone with them? or was it just you?”

‘i don’t know.’

“did you talk to them? did they try to hurt you?”

It was at that that Frisk put the paper and pen beside one another back on top of the desk, arms folded across their chest. If they hadn’t already been sitting on their feet, they might have stomped their foot for further effect, but it seemed that the detective had already gotten the message; the pictures were put away entirely, and the set of writing tools was left where they were as he stood up from the desk.

“listen, kiddo.” Sans walked around the furniture, stopping next to their chair with hands stuff into his trench coat’s pockets. “you’re not in any kind of trouble right now. i just want to know so i can find out who hurt them. they might hurt someone else -- someone who’s nicer than they might’ve been, and didn’t do anything bad. that’s all.”

The detective waited only another second or so before he turned away again, giving them a blind pat on the arm. “i’m gonna go talk to my partner right outside. if you need anything, just knock on wood or somethin’. ”

They chose to watch him leave the room, turning around in the chair uncomfortably until the door was closed behind him and they could watch from one of the adjacent windows as he continued past and approached the bigger, taller skeleton again.  Although they couldn’t be any means read lips -- or rather, teeth --, they could follow the general direction of the conversation. The tall one seemed sad and confused, and Sans looked like the more assured out of the two. Something was said, and the tall one perked up again… only to give his partner an incredulous look right on the fly.

Back and forth it went between the two for what felt like eons before the two seemed to reach a proper agreement of some sort, and the tall one followed Sans right back in.

“GREETINGS, HUMAN!”

The human jolted, twisting around to gaze up. Or, to be more specific, assume they had to, when he’d gone and bent down for them already, teeth glimmering with the same clean prestige that the original detective had seemed to lack entirely. Frisk wondered if that was what people meant by people being with their opposites. Maybe that was their way of contrasting, if they really were crime-solving partners like Sans had said.

“MY NAME,” Again, he seemed to almost shine in a physical way, and if they hadn’t immediately gotten used to it, they’d find that overwhelming positivity a bit unnerving. “IS THE GREAT DETECTIVE PAPYRUS. AND I’D LIKE TO MAKE A SINCERE APOLOGY FOR THE CIRCUMSTANCES UNDER WHICH WE MET TODAY.”

“with the whole magic-pinning thing. he thought--”

“WE THOUGHT!” Papyrus corrected. “WE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT BE A SUSPECT. HOWEVER, MY BROTHER AND NEARLY AS GREAT DETECTIVE, SANS, BELIEVES YOU ARE NOT INVOLVED--”

“--in a bad way. “

“YES. IN FACT, WE WOULD LIKE TO MAKE SOMETHING OF A DEAL WITH YOU. ...WHAT’S THEIR NAME AGAIN?”

“frisk. frisk the nine year old third grader.”

Papyrus cleared his throat -- did skeletons have throats? -- and nodded, slapping a hand to his chest where his badge was proudly and openly pinned. “FRISK THE NINE YEAR OLD THIRD GRADER. A FINE TITLE AND NAME! NOT AS GREAT AS MINE, OF COURSE, BUT IT IS SUITABLE ENOUGH TO JOIN OUR COMBINED INVESTIGATIVE FORCES.”

Though they hadn’t realized, they surely must have made a face of intense confusion, because Sans was quick to step up to the plate, squeezing between Papyrus and the desk with a slick shrug of his shoulders. “i know you’re not ready to talk yet, but we’ve never had a reliable witness in the past. if you’d be fine with it, i’d, uh, like you to come with us. just so you can point something out if you see anything. you can pretend its a field trip.”

“A FIELD TRIP OF CRIME, DRAMA, MYSTERY, AND PLOT TWISTS GALORE. AND POTENTIAL DEATH TRAPS.”

“i was kinda hoping for something more simple, but. it’d at least be a little interesting.”

“AND SO, FRISK THE NINE YEAR OLD THIRD GRADER. “ With hands folded together, the larger detective raised them into a sort of prayer-like position before pointing clasped hands towards them, with an additional wink on top of it all. “WILL YOU COME WITH US ON THIS INVESTIGATION? WE CAN EVEN PROVIDE YOU WITH A JUNIOR DETECTIVE STICK ON BADGE TO COMMEMORATE OUR COLLABORATION!”

They had nowhere else to go for the time being, that was certain. They weren’t sure just where they would end up either, when everyone was done with their questions and poking and prodding. If they didn’t go, they’d find out… but there might not be a way out at that point, and it would be too late to do otherwise. If they went with the skeletons, though…  would it be for better or worse?  They seemed nice, true, but then again, lots of people could seem nice. Especially scary looking monster detectives that smiled all the time for no good reason other than that was probably how their faces were made.

Stay, and get stuck. Go on a field trip, and then maybe not get stuck. They may be nine, and in the third grade, but they’re a pretty smart kid, and they know the better option of the two.

Pen and paper snagged and scribbled on hastily, they handed it to Sans, hopping off their chair and moving past the pair of brothers to stand by the door, hands folded behind their back as they waited with a smile on their face.

‘ Okay. ‘

“ heh. i figured.” Sans stuffed the set away in his coat. “we’ll take it just in case. doesn’t hurt to have spare paper.”

“WELCOME ABOARD, JUNIOR DETECTIVE FRISK!”

Now back to standing at his full height, Papyrus no longer seemed entirely as intimidating as he had moments before. In fairness, when shown enough kindness, and not covered in blood from head to toe, just about anyone can adjust to him rather quickly, they thought.

“MY BROTHER AND I WILL JUST HAVE TO CLEAR IT WITH COMMISSIONER-”

Sans held up a hand, shaking his skull. “ nah. we’re burnin’ daylight as it is. i’ve got a place in mind and the open hours are a coin toss. “

There was a distinct tilt in Papyrus’ posture, hand leveled on his hip while the other did something similar. He leaned forward, and while Frisk had never had a sibling before, they could tell this was likely something brothers did. They immediately chose to dub this the ‘judgemental inquiry’.  “RULES ARE THE RULES, BROTHER! YOU REMEMBER LAST TIME YOU DIDN’T GET PERMISSION, DON’T YOU? AND THE TIME BEFORE THAT? AND THE TIME BEFORE THAT?”

“c’mon. he’s not gonna fire me, pap. the guy’s soft.”

“HIS FLUFFABILITY AND CUDDLE LEVELS ARE NOT IN QUESTION, SANS, AND _I_ KNOW _YOU_ KNOW WHAT _I_ MEAN. YOU KNOW. ”

A long, pointed pause was left hanging between the pair as Frisk glanced back and forth at both faces, looking for a read of some sort on the situation before the smallest brother took in a sharp breath of air, and--

“ ...eh. i’mma risk it. “ And with the most plain of shrugs, the detective passed right by his brother and out the office door. “ it’s just a couple of blocks over, but make sure you don’t lose the kid.  last thing we need’s an abduction case. “

“ I- SANS! SANS?! FOR THE LOVE OF-HE’S! FRUSTRATING!! “ With a hiss of bitterness and a general waving of hands and limbs, Papyrus very quickly caught his composure once more. Annoyance replaced with sympathetic enthusiasm, the skeleton held out his hand for Frisk to take in his own. “WELL, HE’S CORRECT ABOUT THE ‘BURNING DAYLIGHT’ THING. BUT DON’T TELL HIM I SAID THAT. HE HAS THE EGO THE SIZE OF A WATERMELON. A SIZABLE ONE. IN ANY CASE! WE BETTER FOLLOW HIM. ONWARDS?”

With a nod and even just the teeniest bit of skip in their step, Frisk took his rather large hands into their own and followed the pair straight out the office, and into the freshly lit sunny afternoon.


End file.
